Snape's Apprentice
by Fluorescent Parchment
Summary: Having just obtained his OWL results to find he hasn't achieved an O in Potions, a letter from Albus Dumbledore swoops through Harry's bedroom window. A surprise visit is made to the residence of Severus Snape,in the hopes that he will Apprentice Harry
1. The beginning

**Snape's Apprentice.**

It is said that the most hurtful scars are the ones that you cannot see. Of course, translated into non-technical language, people would regard this statement as a professional self-harmer's declaration. One could easily conceal these scars underneath a sweatband or a long sleeved blouse. Easily enough they could wear a mask of hardened emotion; forever building barriers between themselves and society. One affected can withstand the taunting and return it twenty times harder upon the offender. They loath all even though deep down they crave for forgotten affection.

No.

I am referring to the deep emotional scars. The ones that do not show on the surface, they do not leave behind a skinned red mark but they do implant and root a troubled mind. Then again, not all people seem affected by these emotional scars and troubled past times. Some can easily draw a red line beneath that era of their lives and begin a new chapter on fresh paper. The new chapter will of course contain many troubled memories that do not make themselves present on the page. Instead, they linger on the horizon, lurking in the shadows and waiting; waiting for that precise moment to make themselves known once more.

There is no such thing as happily ever after.


	2. The Letter

_Greetings my fickle foe! This is my first attempt at a Harry/Snape Fan Fiction. I have no intentions of turning this into a slash fiction rather, it will be more of a guidance tale._

_I will do my best to keep it as interesting as I can._

_All reviwes are welcome. Whether they be good or bad, I don't mind. Flames will be laughed at . _

_Please note that this work is nought but Fanfiction. All recognisable characters and situations are the workings of J.K Rowling._

_Any character or situation that does not sound familier is more then likely the workings of my own imagintaion._

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**Snape's Apprentice.**

**Chapter One: The Letter**

Harry Potter sat upon his bed, staring blankly at his wooden study desk. It was your average desk: rectangle in shape, two drawers, a space to place a chair in and some initials carved into the surface. This desk had the honour of being furnished with a small green lamp, a Quidditch book and a magnificent black eagle feather quill. The desk also had the blissful honour of being home to Harry's growing collection of failed homework assignments. Normally, Harry would have enjoyed sitting at his desk skimming through the latest daily prophet, examining it for any hint of a Death Eater movement or otherwise.

Today however was different. Amongst the scattered bits of parchment, Owl pellets and quills, the newest addition to Harry's desk lay threateningly on top of a Transfiguration book. It was a letter. But not just any letter, oh no, this was a Hogwarts letter; sealed with the blood red official waxen insignia of Headmaster Albus Dumbledore. It was addressed in emerald-green ink:

_Mr H. Potter_

_The Smallest Bedroom_

_4 Privet Drive_

_Little Whinging_

_Surrey_

Harry examined the thick yellow envelope. It was easily recognisable as a Hogwarts letter although slightly thicker then usual. The reason: inside that envelope were Harry's OWL results. He was nervous all right; the clench in his stomach told him that. What if he failed everything? How would he get a job? Snape would surely fail him, Snape hates him. No, he had to have gotten that O in Potions. He worked for it and did his best; of course he'll get it.

"What's the worse that can happen if I don't get an O?" Harry asked himself, a hint of forced laughter mingled in his tone of voce.

_Oh, nothing of course, _his mind told him _nothing more then a crushed dream and a gloating Severus Snape in your face for the next two years. _

Harry groaned at himself. His dream as of two years ago was to obtain a high position in the Auror office, if not; he wanted to at least become a member of the elite Auror team. Since his first year at Hogwarts, Harry had shown all the signs of being able to deal with surprise dark wizarding attacks. Having faced Voldemort and Co. on countless occasions, he had firmly decided in his fourth year that the Auror route was the one for him.

Hands trembling, he picked up the envelope. Splitting the ruby insignia sent a chill down his spine.

"Here we go Hedwig," he mumbled. Unfolding the yellowed parchment, Harry read aloud his results.

**_ORDINARY WIZARDING LEVEL RESULTS._**

_**Pass Grade:** Outstanding (O) **Fail Grade:** Poor (P)_

_ Exceeds Expectations (E) Dreadful (D)_

_Acceptable (A) Troll (T)_

_**HARRY JAMES POTTER HAS ACHIEVED**_

_Astronomy A_

_Care of Magical Creatures E_

_Charms E_

_Defence against the Dark Arts O_

_Divination P_

_Herbology E_

_History of Magic D_

_Potions E_

_Transfiguration E_

A soaring sensation of pride rooted within his chest and for a moment, Harry didn't care that he was stuck at the Dursley's for another 4 weeks. Seven OWL's he had received. He couldn't have been happier. Yet again, scanning the tiny letters inked in black, his eyes lay to rest upon the small dark E printed next to Potions. Professor Snape demanded that an Outstanding must be achieved in the OWL's exam if one wanted to take NEWT Potions. Harry hadn't achieved an Outstanding so therefore he wouldn't be sitting Potions in his finals. Consequently, he wouldn't become an Auror. Although he was feeling slightly disappointed with not getting an Outstanding in Potions, Harry couldn't help but feel that a back door entrance would make itself available.

Sighing down at the parchment, he tossed it to one side. Nothing unusual about the remaining letters: one was a list of books he needed, another was a set of rules and the last was a note of congratulations from the Head examiner, Cerebella Marks.

_Dear Mr Potter _

_Congratulations on achieving an outstanding OWL report. Best wishes and good fortunes for the further two years study ahead of you. Looking forward to examining you in two years time._

_Yours sincerely_

_Cerebella Marks._

Harry leaned back into the pillows of his rickety bed, folding his arms behind his head of scruffy hair. Thoughts of Ron and Hermione floated through his mind. He instantly knew that Hermione would have gotten nine OWL's, and he would put all his money in Gringotts on a wager that Ron got about 6. He wondered if Ron had gotten an O in Potions, but then he quickly changed his mind. There wasn't a hope in all of Hogwarts that Severus Snape would give a Weasley an O in Potions. Even Fred and George hadn't obtained an O and they were the chief student brewers in Hogwarts, forever mixing ingredients in the hope of inventing a new prank that would somehow turn McGonagall's hair blue. Harry was a keen supporter of this on going movement, as he too was fond of a blue haired headmistress.

"Hey Hedwig, are you up for a bit of a journey?" Harry asked, shifting his head to stare up at his snowy owl.

A responsive hoot declared the bird was up for the journey. She hadn't been out of her cage in two days as the Dursley's neighbours had complained about a mysterious bombarded of bird excrement on their bedroom windows. Harry had received a thump to the shoulder and was ordered to sweep the driveway four times until Uncle Vernon was satisfied.

_Ron,_

_The summer here is slowly ticking by as usual and I haven't had any word of excitement. I just received my OWL result and was sort of surprised to see that I actually got seven OWL's. Only problem is that I didn't get an O in Potions, so I guess I won't be training as an Auror. I'm not too peeved about really, I 'm sure I'll get a good enough job that involves Dark Wizard busting. Good luck with your results. I hope you do well. _

_Harry._

He copied the same words onto another piece of parchment and sent it out to Hermione. Leaning against the open window, Harry watched Hedwig's silhouette against the full moon. He admired her freedom and for a moment longed to sprout a set of wings and soar after her, just for the thrill of being different to others. He was about to shut the window when a second outline presented itself, rising against the midnight wind and coming from the east. It moved with a fast pace, gracefully descending with a silent soar. He shrugged off, soon realising that he wasn't the only person of magical knowledge in the area. There was also Mrs Figg, the batty old lady Harry had once dreaded coming into contact with, but recently had grown fond of. She had helped Harry with his whale of a cousin last summer after dementors had attacked them.

The owl suddenly made a sharp left and darted through Harry's open window, landing with slicing silence onto his bedpost. Stunned at the birds' accuracy, Harry examined the specimen before him. It was larger then an owl, probably a Hawk Owl, and was coated in a magnificent russet flurry of feathers. It was perched proudly with a letter clamped in its beak. Harry grinned. The owl was obviously from a person of importance. There were two types of owls, domestic owls and scavenger owls. This bird was clearly domestic; it held the letter firmly in its beak and not in its claws. Scavenger owls held packages in their claws, so as to swoop upon un-expecting prey while on a job. Domestic owls, however, where trained to be elegant and precise with no between job meals.

"Well, who owns such a well kept bird as you?" Harry mumbled, gently stroking the owls' wings and plucking the letter from its beak. "Of course, Dumbledore," he added, after seeing the emerald-green ink. The owl hooted and made a presentable exit, rustling the bedroom curtains in its leave.

Harry quickly opened the letter. Maybe there was a mistake made while processing his OWL results, and Dumbledore was writing to let him know that he had got an O in Potions.

_Dear Harry,_

_If it is convenient to you, I shall be calling to number 4 Privet Drive within the next two to three days. I am hoping with great enthusiasm that you will be prepared for an early leave. If it is of any interest to you, we will not be making a stop at the Burrow but, will proceed on to the residence of a staff member. There is no need to reply, I am certain you will accept what awaits you. _

_Professor A. Dumbledore_

_P.S Congratulations on receiving seven OWL's. Your parents would have been proud. _

Harry beamed with pride. Seven OWL's and he was leaving the Dursly's with four weeks of summer holidays left. But what could Dumbledore want? And why were they heading for a member of staffs' house? Was there something wrong? Had Voldemort made an attack and hurt a member of staff? What had he got to do with it? Glancing once more at the hand written letter, Harry flopped onto his bed, an uneasy feeling in his stomach. Unexpected letters from Albus Dumbledore were never good news.

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_And that is the very first chapter of this tale. I really do hope you enjoyed it. _

_Please, Read and Review. I will make sure to personally thank you in the further chapters. I shall be posting chapter two as soon as I have written it. _

_-The Apprentice-_


	3. Residence of Staff

_Hello there. I am back with the third chapter of Snape's Apprentice. To the following people: _

_ ::: teddylonglong ::: __diagonalta ::: DebsTheSlytherinSnapeFan ::: fireyhell ::: Shara Lunison ::: BrightFeather ::: Cassiopeia Potter ::: akroque91 ::: mrmistoffelees ::: puckandobe__ron ::: jeevesandwooster ::: mistyfur ::: Sar ::: Lord of the Rings ::: Your Mate named Tate lOvEs kAT ::: _

_Thank you very much for your reviews, your favourite author, favourite story, story alert and author alert. Thank you!_

_Most importantly, thank you for spending some time reading the story. Much appriciated._**

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**Snape's Apprentice**

**Chapter Three: Residence of Staff

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Harry had spent every waking moment of the past three days anticipating the arrival of Professor Dumbledore. Now that he was walking at the side of his idol, through a desolate looking area, Harry couldn't help but feel uncomfortable. He didn't know where they were going. Dumbledore hadn't explained. He had just said they would be seeking the company of an old friend. It was probably someone like Nicholas Flammel or even better, Dumbledore's family. Or did he have a family? Harry made a mental note to further investigate that matter. He had once heard of some 7th years discussing a brother of Dumbledore's who lived in Hogsmeade.

They crossed the road, which had more pot holes then Harry had Galleons, and continued to walk in line with a 6 foot broken wooden fence. Over the tip of the fence, Harry could just make out the shadows of what looked to be trees. He couldn't tell if it was a forest or just a cluster of trees. Either way, a chilling rattle quivered down his spine.

The houses on both sides of the streets had boarded up windows and eviction notices taped to the front gates. The lawns had been allowed to grow a riot and underneath one of the abandoned dustbins, Harry could hear the scraping scratch of some rats.

"Professor?" Harry asked, glancing at the dilapidated playground, wondering as to when was the last time somebody had inhabited the area.

"Yes, Harry." he replied, not at all seeming phased by the sudden change of scenery. Instead, the aged wizard strode assertively through the littered estate.

Narrowly avoiding a pile of dog excrement, Harry turned left with his headmaster. "Where exactly are we going?" he asked, "I mean this neighbourhood isn't exactly familiar looking."

"To the residence of staff, Harry. The residence of staff."

Eyeing the back of Dumbledore's head, Harry couldn't help but shake the feeling that this had something to do with him. Why else would Dumbledore have taken him away so early? Never in all his years of knowing Albus Dumbledore, had Harry gotten a straight answer from the man. To the residence of staff, was where they were going. But what did that have to do with him? Sure, he knew staff members McGonagall, Snape, Flitwick, Trelawny, Hagrid and many more. It didn't make any sense.

"Here we are!" Dumbledore finally cried.

Harry looked up at the house before him. It looked vaguely like the others, abandoned, old and mysterious. The night time moon cast a mid night affect upon the windows, which had equally dark curtains. A small brown gate barred the entrance and beyond that grew a garden of some sort. Wild leaves of all sizes and shapes shadowed the dying summer blooms. A stony path lead to an oddly shaped square door. Following Dumbledore through the gate, Harry tried to avoid stepping anywhere near the garden. Previous experiences in the Herbology green houses had thought him to steer clear of things that looked strange.

Dumbledore halted at the door, rapping once on the steal knocker. It was shaped as a tiny serpent, coiled around a brooch.

"Harry, I must ask you to be on your best behaviour whilst in the company of the resident," Dumbledore said quietly, "We are after all, guests!"

Harry nodded, ignoring the sparkle playing in the older man's eyes. Good old Dumbledore, the thought of anything exciting got him all worked up. Behind the door, Harry could hear footsteps drawing nearer. He glanced once more at the old house, then his eyes landed on the door. It creaked open and within the frame stood a man shadowed by darkness. The profile looked sickeningly familiar and a sudden urge to run overtook Harry. It was Snape.

Harry gasped, quickly looking up at his Headmaster. There was no way in hell they were visiting Snape. This just had to be a side by stop. They were not staying here. No. He glanced up at Snape. His towering profile took over most of the doorframe and his dark, tunnel like eyes were planted forcefully on Harry. There was an unknown emotion in those eyes. It wasn't hatred; it was more loathing then that. As if Snape wanted to get Harry alone, so he could crush him there and then. It was at that point, Harry was thankful for the company of Dumbledore. He had no doubts that Snape would try to kill him.

"Evening, Severus," greeted Dumbledore taking a step further. Harry reckoned that Dumbledore wanted to step inside the door. Harry also figured that he wanted to step outside the front gate and wait for Dumbledore on the footpath. But Harry never gets what he wants.

"Good evening, Headmaster," Snape replied, taking a step backwards into the hallway and indicating with his left hand into the darkened house.

Professor Dumbledore graciously accepted the offer and stood over the threshold. Harry however, decided to stay standing on the doorstep.

_Not for all the money in Gringotts am I going in th -_

"Enjoying the scenery, Potter?"

He jumped, nervously wringing his hands together. As far as he was concerned, he would have much rather watched the weeds grow then step into Snape's house. This arose another point of mystery. Why would Snape be living in a neighbourhood like this? Surely, what with his pureblood and teaching position, he could afford a much better place of comfort.

"Harry, please do not be rude," came the voice of Dumbledore, "Professor Snape has kindly welcomed us into his home, please step through."

"Sorry, sir," he muttered, aware of his now pink cheeks. Harry just knew that an evil smirk was playing on his Potion Masters lips.

Once inside the hallway, he cautiously stepped through to the sitting area. It was small and cramped with a two-seated leather couch, two single chairs and a tiny coffee table between them. What impressed Harry the most was the vast collection of leather bound books. On one wall, from ceiling to floor, shelves held these books. Each one neatly kept and not a single page could be seen poking from above the cover. A small fireplace was embedded into the wall and on top of it stood a silver clock. Other assortments were scattered across the mantle piece and what looked like a tiny red plastic toy car, was sitting next to the clock. Harry cocked an eyebrow. Toy cars?

"Sit down Potter." Snape ordered, pointing towards the couch.

"Thanks." he muttered, sitting next to Dumbledore. Not surprisingly, the couch felt solid, as if it was placed upon a tonne of bricks. He shifted, and then stopped when he felt Dumbledore's eyes rest on him.

"I assume your walk here went well," Snape said, summoning a tray of tea and seating himself into the single chair, leaning back into it.

"Spectacular! Not a bought of trouble in the air, my boy," Dumbledore beamed, pouring himself a cup of steaming tea and shoving the tray towards Harry.

Declining the offer with a shake of his head, Harry continued to examine the room he was stuck in. First things first, there seemed to be no way out except for the way in. The bookshelf took up one wall, the fire place another wall, the window a third wall and the fourth wall was blank. Harry squinted at it, looking for any small cracks that would indicate a secret passage way. None showed themselves so it was confirmed that he was stuck in the room until Dumbledore said otherwise. He shuffled his feet against the carpet which was marine blue.

_What are we doing here? Surely, Dumbledore can't expect me to sit with my enemy for any longer then an hour. _

"Now Harry, I have something to discuss with you tonight," Dumbledore began, placing his empty tea cup back onto the tray and adjusting himself on the seat. Harry had the inkling that he too was feeling the discomfort. Snape on the other hand looked perfectly comfortable.

"This does concern your OWL results-"

"My OWL results?" Harry interrupted, "What's wrong with them?"

"Potter!" Snape snapped, "If you keep quiet and listen you'll find out without interruptions."

Harry glared across the room at him, clenching at the smirk that had suddenly cracked across his face. That man went to every length to put him down. Even in front of the Headmaster, Snape defied his territory.

_Jerk._

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_And that ends the third chapter. I will be back soon with the fourth. Please remember to read and review. Tell me what you think. _

_Like it, love it, hate it, either way your thinking of it. )_

_-The Apprentice-_


	4. The Beginning of Harry's End

_Hello all my dedicated reader people. Wonderful to be updating so soon. To all of you who have taken the time to read this story, comment, add it to alerts and what not : Go Raibh Maith Agaibh!_

_I have realised that in my own my mind, as each chapter progresses I am plotting new situations and slowly the plot is changing. I'm not sure as to which way it will end. Plot A or Plot B. We'll see yet; plenty more chapters to come!_

_Keep reading and Reviewing!_**

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**Snape's Apprentice**

**Chapter Three: The beginning of Harry's end.

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Dumbledore sat momentarily, perhaps cross-examining the speech Harry had no doubt he was composing in that brilliant mind of his. This wasn't the first time Harry had to bare a dramatic pause on the behalf of Professor Dumbledore, and he held no speculation that it would be the last time. It wasn't Dumbledore's fault of course. Professor Albus Dumbledore was a dreamer and was often prone to sparking a new world thought whilst just beginning to end his previous thought. Nevertheless, Harry also knew that every thought Dumbledore thought, was a thought the world would think. The man just had a way of publicizing his every movement when he wanted to.

"There was nothing the matter with your OWL results Harry," Dumbledore smiled, "In fact I was most pleased with them. But what I am hoping to discuss with you are your career choices."

Harry felt a dip in his stomach. He hated talking about the future because in all honesty, his future wasn't exactly predictable. For all he knew a swarm of Death Eaters could be standing on the doorstep waiting to mangle him on his exit. Snape sitting in the same room especially did not offer a condolence to his worried state of mind. Harry knew the tattoo that man bore. The twisted, dark emblem of what was once the old days. Every thing about Severus Snape highlighted darkness. His clothes, his profile, his personality even. He was not a man of good justice rather; he was a man of spite. Anyone who crossed the path of Snape left with a battered confidence. Harry didn't trust him; and that was that.

Dumbledore gazed dreamily into the fire for a short moment, probably again gathering his thoughts. He grunted softly and a smirk played across his lips.

"I assume you have pondered on what career you wish to partake in?"

Harry nodded. "I want to be an auror!" he stated proudly and then added, "Or at least I wanted to become an auror."

A faint grunt echoed from deep within Snape's throat.

"And what is stopping you from pursuing that path in life, Harry?" Dumbledore quizzed again.

He was waiting for that question. Therefore, Dumbledore was trying to have him killed. What was stopping him? Snape was stopping him, that's what. Snape was also sitting in the room at the time. Let's think of it logically. If he were to say straight up that Snape was stopping him, he would probably leave the "residence of staff" looking like a potion.

"Harry …?"

Harry shifted again. "Well I didn't meet the requirements, Professor."

Dumbledore nodded, leaning back into the hard couch and resting his hands on his lap. It was now that Harry noticed just how much he enjoyed that sight of Dumbledore, as odd as it seems. He was a mentor, not just a teacher of some magic. A grandfather figure, with a big bushy beard and soft, friendly eyes that easily gave away his schemes. His crooked smile instantly brightened up a room and he had that all knowing aura of authority. It was only now that Harry became aware of the twisted look on Snape's face. His dark eyes were playing in the fire light and his less appealing aura was shining brightly.

"Professor, what do my results and career choices have to do with all of this?" Harry asked, looking to the both of them, "I don't understand."

"That you don't Potter," Snape spat, retreating from his seat and walking towards the vast collection of books.

"Tell me Potter, alongside caterpillar, daisy roots, shrivel fig and leech juice, what other source of ingredient to you need to obtain to brew a shrinking potion?" Snape continued to ask in his usual silky tone of voice.

Harry made an inaudible noise and began glancing around the room. He shrugged, "I don't know sir."

Snape paused, his back turned to them and his long fingers skimming the edges of the fine books. "Really?" he mused, "Such a surprise."

Harry flushed, clenching his fists and looking away. How dare he - it - start a confidence shrinking session before Dumbledore. And he let him! Snape backed away from the bookshelf and spun towards Harry, dropping a large book onto the table with a sharp bang. The tinted pages began to turn by themselves, fluttering in a haze of yellow before coming to a halt at page 101. Dumbledore seemed highly amused by this little display, prominently muttering to himself about the wonders of young magic.

"Read the ingredients to yourself," Snape ordered, pointing at a page entitled "Shrinking Potions, Solutions and other methods of dwarfism"

"Sir, why am I reading potions books?" Harry asked, his voice tinted with annoyance.

"You'll soon enough find out, Harry," Dumbledore intervened, just before Snape had the chance.

He scanned the ingredients; daisy roots, shrivel fig, leech juice, caterpillar and rats spleen. _Oops, rat's spleen._

"Yes, Potter, rats spleen. Do you realize that this a second year potion? You have just completed your 5th year and still after three years you cannot recite the simplest of ingredients!"

Harry eyed the book, refusing to meet the glowering figure of his Potion Master. It was three years for crying out loud, how was he supposed to remember that? He had revised it for the OWLs; he just forgot rat's spleen. So what? Then Professor Dumbledore cleared his throat.

"I believe what Professor Snape is trying to express is that to become an auror you need an O in potions -"

"Which you didn't get Potter!" he barked magically shutting the book, "I expect nothing less then an O for my Newt classes, nothing less!"

"I am aware of that!" Harry challenged. He had just about had enough of this tampering business.

"Excuse me," said Dumbledore quietly, "I believe I was trying to explain something. So when you are both quite ready to listen, I shall continue."

Snape glared once more to Harry before regaining his seat. "My apologies Headmaster."

"Sorry sir."

Professor Dumbledore cleared his throat. "Now Harry, the ministry have no connections what so ever when it comes to acceptance grades within Hogwarts. You had your hopes set on becoming an auror but did not achieve an O in your potions exam, and to which I can understand why. Professor Snape has presented me with the paper, and I'm afraid to say that you did make quite a few mistakes that could have been prevented -"

Harry felt his cheeks burn and could swear he was turning at least five shades of purple. Any deeper and they would name a new shade of maroon after him. In addition, he could feel the prying eyes of Professor Snape on him. He tried to close his mind in prevention of the Potion Masters wondering eye.

"- would you mind terribly if Professor Snape recited some of the mistakes you made Harry, just so as you are aware as to why you did not get an O."

Harry shook his head suddenly becoming very interested in the patterns of the carpet. He could hear Professor Snape remove some sheets of parchment from somewhere and ruffle them vigorously.

"To begin with," he began, not attempting to conceal his glee, "Your explanation of a cauldron states that you have a four legged cauldron, when in fact students are required to use three legged cauldrons as they are more balanced and equalized. You confused orthodoxies with antro-oxes, which is in no way a common mistake Potter. One is a Pink liquid and lets off smoke; the latter is a black liquid that blows up. Secondly, your little mishap with the rats spleen. I rest my case with the note that you have been brewing that potion for three years. You have no excuse as to why you cannot list the ingredients in a polyjuice potion! …"

Harry paled slightly. He hadn't forgotten that scenario in his second year. Snape was still conscious of letting Harry anywhere near supply cupboards. The two sets of eyes resting on him felt as of they bore deep into his soul.

"Yes, Professor," he mumbled, picking consciously at a tattered hole in his jeans.

"To continue - yes Potter, there are more errors in your paper; you drew a graph illustrating the effects of an enlarging potion on a lab rat. Instead of your graph increasing in numbers, it dropped dramatically. You misspelled Amortentia, and said that it was a weak form of love potion. Finally, we come to your practical exam. You did not bottle enough of the mixture resulting in a low effect. Did you not read the question?"

Silence fell about the room. Professor Snape dropped the exam paper to the table and smugly folded his arms, Professor Dumbledore leaned forward to retrieve the paper and Harry continued to pick at the already too big a hole in the knee of his jeans. He didn't know what to say. A horrible cascading sensation arose in his throat and he had to fight hard to keep his emotions at bay.

"Harry?" Professor Dumbledore asked softly, gazing over his half moon glasses.

Harry shrugged in response. It was all he could think of at the time. "Well it's too late to do anything about now, isn't it?" he stated, stubbing the tip of his shoes into the carpet.

"Not exactly, I have come up with a resolution," Dumbledore announced, "_Severus_ and I have come up with a resolution." At this, Harry accidentally locked eyes with Snape. He couldn't read the emotions, which was something that made Snape a great spy. "I know how much you wanted to become an auror, it is after all what your parents choose to do once they left school and I am very certain that they would have been proud of you for choosing such a path in life."

"Thank you sir," he mumbled.

"Do you like potions, Harry?" Dumbledore asked.

He shrugged again. "I guess its ok, I never fully understood it." Snape grunted again and rubbed his temples. It was getting late and he was craving for a quick shot of fire whiskey to send him to sleep.

"When I received your results along with the other students results, I immediately noted that you had not managed to get into Professor Snape's NEWT potions class, so I put in a special request, Harry. I want you to become an auror and follow your dreams."

"Sir, how?"

"Professor Snape has kindly agreed to apprentice you until you have reached a NEWT level potions standard," Dumbledore smiled.

Harry blinked twice. His heart began to race and his only escape route was out the front door into the dismal back streets. Snape wants to apprentice me. No, he doesn't … Dumbledore wants him to apprentice me. But I can't, I won't …

Harry tried to recall the last time he had been left alone with Snape. It was during a detention he had received for "loitering" in the hallways. In fact, he had been fixing his shoelace, yet Snape saw fit to cart him off to detention. For that solid 60 minutes, he had been mentally strained with the obnoxious, loathing voice of Snape.

"I assure you Potter, I am in no way happy about this arrangement and will until the day you leave my side be disturbed with the possibilities that could arise."

Dumbledore chuckled lightly at his Potion Masters comment. He placed a hand on Harry's shoulder, as offering a source of comfort and beamed between the both of them.

"Severus, I am perfectly sure that you and Harry will eventually come to some resolution. This does not have to be a formal arrangement, just act as of you are still within the confinements of Hogwarts," he suggested, "Now Harry, what do you say?"

"Thank you, sir," he muttered bitterly, pulling at another loose strand on his jeans.

Professor Dumbledore one again turned his attention to the fireplace. He held a dreamy expression on his aged face and a twinkle in his eye.

"It is getting late, Headmaster," Snape announced, courteously rising from his seat and offering his hand to the Headmaster. Dumbledore accepted the offer and allowed himself to be hoisted from the stiff chair.

"Oh my, it is indeed well past my bedtime," he sighed, straightening his back with a muffled groan, "Thank you very much Severus, for your hospitality"

Snape grunted in response. "Shall you be spending the night, or should I arrange a portkey?"

"Neither my boy, neither. I think I'll take the floo network," he decided, advancing into the fireplace, which Harry noted had increased in size and was now without a flame, "Word has it that the department has upgraded the system by a notch. I do love the whirl of the floo."

"Professor!" Harry cried, taking a giant leap towards his Headmaster.

"If you need to contact me Harry, you can write and I am positive that Severus will allow you to borrow the floo network for a few moments of fun," he said, looking towards the towering figure of Snape.

"Of course Headmaster, I shall be in contact soon enough."

Professor Dumbledore grinned and with a crack of green flame, dissolved into the wall of the fireplace. It was to be. That last image of Dumbledore rooted deeply into his mind. This was probably the last time he would see the man if Snape killed him. Turning on the spot, he wrung his hands together. Hell. There was an awkward silence. Harry looked around the room frantically, weighing up the possibilities of this conclusion to his life.

"It's late Potter, and I have much work to do in the morning, so you are going to bed this instant," Snape barked icily.

Harry would have loved to retort with a witty, sarcastic comment as to how he would be finding the bedrooms, there was after all no other door but the exit, when suddenly one section of the bookcase vanished and a rounded staircase presented itself. For a moment, he gawped like a fish at the sheer intelligence of the matter: it would take only Snape to outdo the average wizard.

"Really Mr Potter, you would think that you of all people would be used to these odd happenings," Professor Snape smirked, leading the way up the stairs.

Harry quickly followed, not wanting to be left standing alone in the front room of an active death eater's house. Although, he wasn't to sure that he wanted to be following one up the stairs either. He did however follow Snape up the stairs and into a long wooden hallway. He could just make out two picture frames if he squinted through the darkness. He paused for a moment, hoping to the fiery pits of hell that his eyes would adjust to the darkness. He could make out nothing but the faint aroma of potions.

_Oh Christ, if I bump into the back of Snape he'll kill me there and then._

A draft had somehow found its way into the hallway and icily found its way through the material of Harry's Weasley jumper. Goosebumps erupted across his pale arms and the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. There was something odd about this house. It wasn't your average house. There was something else here. He spun to the left, something had moved in the corner.

_I'm dead._

"Aaaaahhh!" he yelled, flailing his arms in the air and pulling his wand from his pocket

"Potter!" Snape barked, rushing from behind a door, his wand outstretched and a tiny light flickering at the tip.

Harry spun towards him, a look of sheer panic and nerves crossed his face. "What is it?" he yelled, backing against the wall.

Snape lowered his wand to waist height; a triumphant and gloating smirk cracked his face. His dark eyes glinted and Harry was almost certain he was going to laugh.

"You insolent brat!" Snape hissed, tapping a door to his left open with his foot, "that is what we normal folk call a cat. Do you demand an illustration with that fact?"

Harry pocketed his wand, breathing deeply. It was a cat, just a cat that had brushed against his leg. Tucking a strand of hair behind his ear, he straightened himself out once more. It was then the foolishness of his actions kicked in. He wasn't here 2 hours and had already managed to make a complete idiot of himself over a cat.

"Your room, Potter," Snape grinned, pointing his wand to the open door.

Harry nodded and paced slowly into the dark room. The light of Snape's wand highlighted enough for Harry to make out a small, single bed pushed into one corner, in another a chest of drawers and some shelves and then a study desk. He was delighted to see that his trunk and Hedwig had been delivered safely; she was perched cautiously in her cage, unaware and suspicious of her surroundings.

"You have light for 10 minutes," Snape decided, igniting a candle and placing it into a tiny holder on the wall, "After that you blow it out, or you sleep in the hallway. Understood?"

Harry nodded. "Yes - sir," he added as an afterthought.

Professor Snape glared at him once more and then retreated, slamming the door in his leave. Harry sighed deeply, sticking his hand into Hedwigs cage and gently trying to coax here out. She nipped at his fingers and he stroked her beak reassuringly.

"At a girl," he mumbled as Hedwig proceeded to stretch her wings and perch on his shoulder.

Harry could relate to how she felt; alone, scared and confused. Unsure of the troubles ahead. He looked around the room, closely examining his new habitat for a while. The walls were a pale, almost greying yellow and held no trace of decoration saves for a lonely looking mirror covered in dust. Harry figured that Snape didn't do much looking in the mirror. The floor was constructed of dark coloured wood, with a series of scratches deeply embedded into the panels. Someone had obviously been shoving that big desk around the place. The desk wasn't much to look at; in fact, it rather resembled his own one at the Dursley's. The chest of drawers looked relatively new, they were a bit dusty but after a quick check, it proved that the drawers opened and closed without a sound. On top of the shelves were a few books, Harry didn't feel like nosing through them tonight, he didn't want Snape on his back for being sneaky. Instead, he flopped on to the bed, which to his surprise was soft and fluffy. The pillows were new, he could tell by the stiff feel and the blankets were made of light cotton.

The candle flame flickered, and then extinguished itself, another of Snape's tricks. That night Harry slept in his clothes. Despite his new surroundings, he felt oddly at home. The room felt comfortable and welcoming. There was just one thought that continued to play on his mind - why did Snape have a toy car in his living room?

* * *

_Ta-da! Endo of chapter three. Did you like it? Tell me, I want to know. _

_I'm now off to watch another stunning performance of Alan Rickmans. That man is such a sex ... _

_-The Apprentice-_


	5. Play by the Rules

_How do? Yes, it took some time for me to get this up and running but, I have a valid excuse. You see, my computer recently decided to die ... tragic, i know but there you are. _

_Anyway this chappie is short. I'll try and make up for it. I'm finished my school tests so you know, yeah!!_

_Thank you to everyone you reviewed and what not. I was asked by someone, I think, if this has anything to do with the books: No. It is not a follow up of any book. _**

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**

**Snape's Apprentice**

**Chapter Five: Play by the rules.**

* * *

_On the day that Severus Snape encountered the men who were to change and shape his life, he was 16 years old. He had been wondering through the library, plotting his next attempt at reaching the forbidden section. The librarian, a stubborn sadistic old madam, had previously clipped him across the ear for attempting to cross the line with a disillusion spell. Therefore, he had decided that his next attempt would be to use a potion, a polyjuice potion to be exact. Naturally, it didn't work, he had lost the hairs he was intending to use and to conclude, he attempted to jump the railing while she wasn't looking. Fat chance there was of that, the old coot had a set of eyes like a hawk and banished him from the library for 4 weeks. Severus had thought this was very unfair. How was an intellect such as himself expected to unravel his wonders without the aid of books? Impossible._

_For those 4 weeks, he was subdued to wondering the dungeons, his mind forever churning already processed information; then he met her … and them. She was beautiful and upon first sight captivated more then her fair share of his heart. Long, ebony curls tumbled freely across her shoulders and her eyes: Severus would never forget them. They were the sort that pierced your very soul and left a dangerous wound. They were green, sometimes blue and on a vicious day, they glowed a solstice yellow. Her name was Angelina and she …._

* * *

Harry rolled recklessly to one side, swinging his pillow, blanket and whatever else had landed on him, straight to the cold, hard floor. His vision was hazy, resulting in the recent loss of his glasses. There was a strange aroma in the air. He coughed twice allowing the morning essence of back fluid mucous to disintegrate within his throat. Applying his glasses, Harry glanced around the room and then he remembered. He was at Snape's house. How delightful. He swivelled off the bed and groaned.

_Good god that mattress was to soft for my likings_

The only problem that now seemed to present itself was, what was he to do now? Should he sit in his room and wait for Snape to come to him? On the other hand, should he get up and risk the Potion Masters wrath for stepping out of line? There wasn't much of a choice, if he sat and waited Snape would probably let him rot, if he got up that cat would probably attack again. Neither appealed to him. Instead of retreating, for ten minutes Harry paced the bedroom. Back and forth. Back and forth. Back and forth and slightly to the left. He soon discovered that the floorboard on the left of the desk squeaked, and the skirting board behind the door was falling off.

Harry jumped when he heard a rap on the wooden door. The cat?

"Erm … come in?" he called in an unsure voice.

The bedroom door swung silently open and Professor Snape stepped over the thresh hold clad in his usual attire of billowing black robes. An aura of freshness followed him, something unusual Harry noted. He didn't exactly see Snape as a fresh person, more of a stale chunk of cheese behind the radiator.

"Breakfast, Potter," he said silkily, "Or would you rather pace back and fort over my floorboards until you have created a crater in the floor?"

"Sorry Professor," Harry gasped, suddenly fighting to stand still, "I didn't think you could hear me moving."

Snape sneered down at him. "Well I can, so let's make a new rule, shall we?" He paused for a moment, as if waiting for Harry to agree to his idea and then announced with great importance, "No pacing on my floor boards for ridiculous reasons!"

Harry jumped and nodded. No more pacing, fair enough. He followed Professor Snape out of the bedroom and down the hallway, which unnoticeably veered to the left and down another flight of stairs. They ended up standing in an old medieval looking kitchen. The floor was made of ancient cobblestone, and the walls of large grey slabs. A black cooking stove stood beneath a cupboard and another stone fireplace was lit next to the table. Oddly enough, it reminded Harry of the Burrow.

"Sit." Snape demanded, taking the seat opposite him.

Harry obeyed, carefully nestling onto the seat very aware of the fact that, if he scraped the chair, Snape would surely go mental. He was already in trouble for one thing and wanted it to remain that way.

"Thank you professor," he murmured, hungrily eyeing the plate of food before him.

Snape grunted in response, rustling a _Daily Prophet_ and completely blocking out the vision of the brat before him. He hated this mentor crap. Babysitting the brat until he could learn to read instructions was not his idea of a fun summer. He would rather spend the night with Draco Malfoy, then baby sit a Potter. He quietly growled at the paper, taking all his frustration out on an article written by Josphia Dujo, that he had found in the weekly magazine that they are now sticking into every _Prophet._

_A husband's guide to wooing your wife._

_It has been blatantly noted for years now, that men in this day and age seem to be incompetently aware of a woman's structural routine. _

_My husband, Gregory for example, seems to show no sign of intelligence when it comes to my emotions. I sit in front of the fire, fully relaxed and knitting my latest addition to the children's bedside closet, and he saunters into the room, stinking of the newest brew from down the local and unashamedly demands we take all further process to the bedroom. _

_The term animalistic, comes to mind. Because he has downed more then his body weight in intoxicating liquids, it has suddenly become my role in life to kneel for his every wish. Not likely. _

_His excuse the next morning, "I read it in the newest 'Guide to being a better husband'"._

_I recently discovered that this so-called "Guide" is actually a few sheets of parchment the local alcoholics have written up down the pub and to think, I cooked that man …_

Severus tossed the magazine over his shoulder into the fire. As far as he was concerned, that woman was the one with the problem. Please, why should one devote such time to composing an article that most people would not read anyway? It was ludicrous writing. He glanced over the paper. Potter was poking at his food and half-heartedly eating a mouth full every 5 minutes or so. Severus glared. There was nothing he hated more then an incompetent brat who turned his nose up at generosity. He had a half mind to chuck the boy into the back yard, where every other animal lived.

"Not good enough?" he hissed, folding his paper and sneering down the table at him.

Harry shook his head, his hair flopping into his eyes. "No sir, thank you, it's great. I'm just not as hungry right now," Harry told him. Truthfully, he was grateful for Snape's generosity, if he were still with the Dursley's; he wouldn't even have been offered one-half of what he had now. It was just strange eating in front of his Professor. This was the man Harry had spent most days trying to avoid. At least when they were in the great hall, he was surrounded by hundreds of other students. There wasn't time to have all eyes on him. Now he was sitting alone with Snape … in silence.

Snape glowered at him again. "To begin with Potter, we are going to discuss rules and regulations," he declared, pushing his empty plate away and leaning back into the kitchen chair, "To begin with, if you think for a minute that I shall be monitoring your every movement, you are sorely mistaken. Understood?"

"I understand." Harry said.

"Secondly, any room that is locked is locked for a reason. You cannot handle what is held behind those doors, so don't play martyr and snoop!"

"I wouldn't do that anyway," Harry nearly yelled. He had every intention of storming from the table in a huff. Why would he even bother snooping around Snape's crap?

"Exactly! In addition, you can be very sure Mr Potter, that if I ever catch you out of bounds, a permanent vacation to the basement will be arranged. Thirdly, you are not to send owl's from my house. If you have anything of importance to declare, you shall come to me and present your letter. I will read it -"

"Those are private!"

"Well then your fans will have to go with out the prized Potter autograph, won't they? Do not think you can fool me Potter, I will not tolerate disobedience. I do not care how much Dumbledore praises your every movement, you are under my care and unfortunately, for me I cannot change that. Are we very clear?" he hissed.

Harry glowered across the table, matching the hatred Severus bore. "_Crystal_," he muttered through clenched teeth. Satisfaction had been won.

* * *

Later that day, Harry found himself being led into a wild back garden. Various vegetations sprung up against the wall and rooted deep within the ground. There was just a miniature wooden plank of wood that served as a footpath. Harry wasn't to confident about wondering into the middle of these strange looking plants, but he was interested in knowing what the round red things were. Perhaps he could nick a few while Snape had his back turned … no! He promised.

"Professor -"

"This, Potter, is called a potions labyrinth. You will spend a lot of time picking items from here which in turn will serve as your ingredients.," Snape announced resentfully, without taking a breath he continued, walking with his hands behind his back, tall and masculine, "I am now warning you that, dare you pick anything at the bottom of the garden, you can immediately expect to have yourself carted off to St. Mungo's in a match box."

Harry nodded in understanding. He had no doubts that Snape had just threatened him but he figured that getting this finished in peace was the main priority of the day. Despite it being a summer's day, an overcast shadow seemed to douse the garden in chill. Harry's thin t-shirt was no match for the wrath of one Jack Frost nipping at his skin.

"Will I bring my potions kit next time?" he asked, stuffing his hands in his pockets in an effort to warm them.

Snape eyed him. He seemed to be contemplating whether or not a caustic answer would suffice for the moment. "That would be ideal, Mr Potter."

Harry nodded, shuffling on his feet. To draw attention from himself, he began to eye a strange looking ingredient that hung from a tree.

"It's moon leaf, Potter," Snape told him, bending down to pluck the silvery half-moon shaped leaf, "Used mostly in reviving potions, a large amount has been known to cause side affects, but I don't exactly go around reviving everybody who drops at my feet."

"No sir," Harry agreed sarcastically.

"It's a weaker form of Astravizer, which is said could even awaken the dead," he continued, crumbling the leaf within his hands.

Harry glowered at the man before him. It would take Snape, only Snape to crumble an ingredient that could help people. Harry supposed the man never saw a day of happiness in his life, which would drastically explain the dreary house and old folks garden.

* * *

_Severus cautiously peeped around the corner. She was there again; talking avidly to Lucius Malfoy, who in turn couldn't withstand the chance to flash his new pocket watch. Severus eyed her short skirt with contempt, a pretty girl like her doesn't need to flash so much flesh, especially in the prescence of Malfoy._

_She laughed, swinging her head back and lacing one hand into the strap of Lucius' backpack. Flushing with rage Severus quickly hurried away from the scene. He knew what would happen next._

_He didn't want to see.

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OK there, done. Like. No like?_

Please Review! Thank you so so much.

-The Apprentice- 

_Knowing was enough._


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